Debbi scowled and shoved herself up from the seat. She yanked her goggles down over her eyes. As she opened the hatch, wind rushed over her in with the sharp sting of aggravated sand. She could see the edge of a distant rise bleeding into the dusky air, the particles swiftly joining the storm's incensed dance. Lifting her bandana over the lower part of her face, she stepped out and began her march to the prison.
She made good time. The thought of putting into action what she had wanted to do for days now gave her the stamina she needed. She crawled into a wadi and popped up over the bank, only a few feet from the prison wire.
The camp was quiet except for the incessant flapping of tents and the swaying of unlit lanterns. She could see two guards standing outside the main gate, seemingly unconcerned about the worsening weather conditions. There were two more troopers standing inside the compound. They weren't moving either. She didn't see Lieutenant Mumbler, as she thought of the uncooperative and incomprehensible officer she'd encountered on her last trip to the camp.
Why weren't the troopers patrolling?
In fact, none of the visible Legionnaires were doing anything but standing still. It seemed odd. Were they that cocky that they didn't need to make rounds to ensure no one escaped?
Luckily, both of the troopers inside the fence were facing away from Debbi. She slipped over the top of the wadi on her belly, leaving a small river of sand in her wake. She kept low, scurrying several yards to crouch behind a clump of brush. She studied the zombies. They remained in place. Her eyes swept the tent locations. The largest was surrounded by four smaller ones. She decided that the large one must hold the prisoners while the smaller ones held supplies and provided shelter for some of the Legion guards, though the stupefied Legionnaires standing in the open apparently didn't care that the wind was stripping more decaying flesh from their bones.
Debbi was now out of sight of the guards in the front. She slipped around the brush and came forward in a hunched run, wire cutters already clutched tight in her hand. The wire wasn't electrified; they were overconfident bastards. Hell, why hadn't Ringo tried to escape himself? Borneo managed it. She was going to have to have a talk with the kid about when to accept incarceration and when to escape from the enemy.
She cut through the wires and slipped inside, darting quickly for the side of the nearest small tent. She crouched on one knee, watching the area for movement.
She saw nothing.
Debbi couldn't hear anything over the roar of the wind. She pulled out her knife and slowly cut a hole in the tent, just enough to put an eye to and see in.
It was dark as pitch inside, but she triggered the starlite filter on her goggles and the interior lit up green. With her hands cupped around her eyes she could see the tent was largely empty except for a few crates and barrels.
Now she heard a faint rasping in the distance. It sounded as if there were patrols after all, probably coming from the other side of the big tent. She ripped up the bottom of the flap a few inches and rolled inside out of sight.
Her Dragoon was out and sweeping the interior. The green glow of her goggles showed that nothing was hiding. She stood and looked around. She heard the rasping sound outside move along the side of the tent and then past.
She breathed a small sigh of relief.
Moving to the front of the tent, she peered out. The Mumbler was outside finally. Debbi recognized some of Marat's squad with the officer. The small group of undead men entered one of the smaller tents on the right side of the compound. It must be the officer's tent.
Turning back inside, the Ranger approached the crates. She judged the wind's howl and felt it was loud enough to drown out a little snooping. She jammed her knife into the lip of the nearest barrel. Twisting it back and forth, she worked the edge up. It creaked open and she pulled the lid the rest of the way up.
It was salted meat. A lot of it.
She was about to shut the lid, when she saw something. She lifted the lid higher and stared in horror at a hand protruding from the meat packed in the barrel. A wave of bile rose in her throat and she stumbled back. The lid slapped into place with a loud thud. She caught herself on the edge of a crate, but then jerked her hand aside with revulsion of what might be inside it.
Merciful heaven, they were eating the prisoners!
She had condemned Ringo to a death sentence! She had condemned them all! Borneo had told her the truth; there were no prisoner transfers to the Sanitarium. That was why there were so few guards. There was no need; the prisoners were being harvested.
Debbi shoved aside her horror and dropped her mask of a Ranger into place; she stepped back to the front flap.
She would kill the zombies, every single one.
She crouched and lifted the flap almost wishing the patrol would swing back her way. Her fingers continued to curl around the butt of her gun in a reflexive twitch.
The sand bit into her face, but she kept her eyes centered on the main tent. She crawled out and stood. Her gaze never wandered despite the fact that the sand continued to writhe in fierce distortions. She strode forward boldly, not caring if anyone saw her. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to see that the means of their true death walked among them. Let one show its rotting face. She'd blast it off with pleasure.
With her knife, Debbi split the side of the large tent and shoved it roughly aside. She stepped inside with her weapon up and ready.
As steeled as she thought she was for what was inside, it was no protection at all. The sight was beyond gruesome. Two zombie Legionnaires sat hunched over two bodies that were chained hand and foot to the ground. The troopers lifted bloody faces at her entrance, their jaws working incessantly as they continued to chew.
Her weapon swung on them and she fired.
"Bastards!" she screamed.
Bullets ripped into them and they fell back. It took only a second before they rose again. A rational thought finally emerged from her brain and her thumb brushed against the black gun trigger and she felt the subtle discharge. Two slivers of the black tannis sliced into the zombies and they immediately froze. The Rangers had never had the opportunity to field test the black guns after learning what they supposedly did. But Debbi didn't have time to be amazed that the needles actually worked so well.
The vengeful Ranger fired again with standard ammo and both Legionnaire skulls exploded. Their once and again lifeless bodies flopped wetly to the ground.
A sound to her left was the only warning as a Legionnaire swung a rotting arm that slammed against her head.
Debbi fell to the ground. She immediately rolled and came up against a partially eaten corpse. Its eyes stared at her in undeniable, futile fear, pleading for a rescue that was coming far too late. Debbi's rage surged even higher. She slashed at the approaching figure with her large knife, cutting deep across the zombie's calf. It didn't even flinch, but it did drop to one knee as the tendons separated.
She shoved the barrel of her Dragoon against a bit of bare skull protruding white through its decaying skin and thumbed the black gun trigger. Its grasping hands froze agonizingly mere inches from her face. Without even blinking, Debbi immediately placed a bullet there as well.
Brain matter splattered across her face. The Legionnaire fell to the side. She kicked it away.
Debbi gathered her legs under her and stood. The surrounding carnage was horrendous. Six human bodies lay around her, three of which were almost completely consumed. Only a few limbs and gnawed bones remained of them. A foot with its chain still locked around the ankle lay on the bloody ground.
Debbi's hand trembled. She was too late.
She had failed Ringo.
Debbi turned away, prepared to face the remaining troopers who would be coming her way. They most likely had heard the gunfire and were fast approaching.
Let them come, she thought. She had a rage consuming her and it needed to be expelled in the most basic way. She methodically checked her weapon and made sure she had a shell and a needle in bot
h chambers. She was ready.
A muffled groan reached her ears. She turned around, her weapon covering her back. She saw nothing. Only bodies.
Then one of them moved. The attached chains rattled in the muffled silence of the tent turned horrific tomb. One of the prisoners was still alive. A disoriented head lifted, and Debbi's face changed from dejection and hatred to absolute elation.
Ringo!
She scrambled over to the young man, dropping down to the blood-saturated ground.
"Ringo! You're alive!" Her voice held a tremor that she didn't bother trying to hide. She pulled off the filthy rag that gagged him. She guessed that the Legion didn't want their supper interrupted by annoying distractions. Also, it prevented any unlikely passersby from overhearing desperate screams.
It only made her even more enraged.
Recognition finally seeped into Ringo's eyes and he focused on his savior. "Debbi!" He was near hysterics, struggling ineffectually against the chains that bound him.
"Steady, Ringo. I'll get you out of here." She didn't waste precious time trying to pick the lock. She blasted the short lengths of chain binding each limb. She helped Ringo to sit up. In only the few days since Ringo had been incarcerated, he had already lost weight and strength.
"Think you can handle a gun?" Debbi asked. "We're getting out of here."
Ringo nodded, his voice dry and rasping. "Give me anything. I'll crawl my ass out of here if it means missing the next mess call."
Debbi smiled slightly. "That's the spirit."
She scrambled to one of the dead Legionnaires and pulled an autopistol from its holster. Then she hauled Ringo to his feet and shoved the pistol into his hands.
The tent flap was flung open behind her and in surged four more Legionnaires.
Debbi spun around and fired her black gun. Needles found a home in the two forward zombies. Ringo's gunfire answered and shot the frozen Legionnaires. They blew back, crashing into the troopers behind them.
Debbi maneuvered Ringo to the slit through which she had come, hoping that the Legion patrols outside hadn't spotted it yet. She continued firing. Another Legionnaire froze, but this time Ringo didn't take it down with a follow up shot.
The young Ranger's face had gone slack and stared mutely at one of the sykers. Debbi scanned the group of zombies and noticed the one that was staring intently at Ringo. With a shout, Debbi shot it with a tannis needle and followed up with a .45 caliber hollowpoint. Its head shattered.
As the decapitated Legionnaire dropped, Ringo shook his head as if waking from a long sleep. Debbi shoved him through the flap as she continued to lay down cover fire behind them.
"Run straight between the tents!" she called to him. "The wire's cut!" The three remaining Legionnaires lifted their weapons. Bullets tore through the tent as she flung herself out after Ringo.
Debbi spun around and sprayed a suppressing fire behind her at three Legionnaires emerging from the mess tent. The heavy shells struck home and pushed them momentarily off their feet back into the tent and each other. But she knew it wouldn't be for long. The element of surprise was gone and the zombies were getting their range with their syker powers. The Rangers had to get out.
"Debbi! Come on!" Ringo shouted over the sandstorm.
She backpedaled toward the fence line. The zombies scrambled to their feet and rushed forward at Debbi. One lingered and she noted its concentration. It was about to do some sort of syker crap.
Her weapon lifted, but then shuddered to a halt in midair. Suddenly her chest felt like it was going to explode. She could feel her ribs shifting inside her body. A cry of agony was ripped from her and her hand trembled as she labored to hold onto her gun.
Ringo suddenly appeared next to her and grabbed the Dragoon from her. Before the syker could glance his way, he shot all of them with the tannis needles. They froze.
The pressure was released from Debbi's chest and she staggered, catching herself on Ringo's shoulder. He was screaming over the weapon's discharge, blindly firing the bullets, hoping for a head shot but knowing he was too weak and disoriented to shoot so accurately. They had only seconds before the troopers recovered.
Debbi knew it. She reached over and steadied Ringo's hand, helping him aim. Three shots. Three accurate shots. Three dead Legionnaires.
Ringo slumped against her for a moment as the last of the zombies fell onto the swirling sand. Then he grabbed her and pulled her toward the fence. Debbi noticed a movement to her right. Lieutenant Mumbler stepped into view and lifted a hand toward his fleeing, one time prisoner.
"Over here, you bastard!" Debbi screamed and fired the black gun. Two needles missed their target as the Lieutenant pulled back. However, it was enough to distract the undead syker from its intended target.
The Lieutenant's gaze zeroed in on her and its eyes burned as an energy blast was cast in her direction, passing dangerously close over her shoulder. She felt her skin burn from the proximity of the blast.
Debbi returned fire and this time a needle dug itself into the Lieutenant's right eye. There was silence as it froze in place, eyes wide, trapped with the knowledge that it would soon be truly dead once more. She took great pleasure in blowing its brains out. They splattered into the wind.
Debbi chased after Ringo and was soon helping him through the hole in the wire. She covered his back and then slipped through herself. There were no more syker zombies following them.
Her eyes burning against the sting of the swirling sand, she led Ringo toward the hidden Prowler. They leaned into the storm and fought their way up the rise and out of sight.
The trip to the Prowler was longer than she remembered, but it always was when something might be chasing you. Half the time she wasn't even sure which direction she was heading.
They practically bumped into the vehicle. Ringo was exhausted and operating on sheer willpower alone. She guided his disoriented body inside the Prowler and slammed her hand down on the hatch button. It rumbled closed and there was finally silence. Ringo dropped into the navigator's seat. Debbie threw herself into the driver's seat and started the engines.
She didn't see any wounds on him so she let him be for the time being. Right now, she wanted to put distance between them and the Bone Camp. Word of their attack would soon reach other Legionnaires in the area and she wanted to be long gone. She hit the accelerator and rumbled off into the desert. She cast one final plea for forgiveness toward Temptation. She hoped Ross could hear it over the cry of the storm.
Chapter 11
Through the diminishing sandstorm, Stew approached the east gate of Temptation on the speeder bike with Borneo tossed behind him like a bedroll. The sight of Miller, Fitz, and Chennault standing in the middle of the open gate heightened the uneasy feeling he'd had during the ride back from Stryga Wells. He came to a stop in front of his fellow Rangers.
"Where's Debbi?" Miller eyed Borneo. "And where'd you find that?"
"Stryga Wells," Stew answered. "Dallas is gone."
"What?" Fitz exclaimed in amazement.
"She's gone. I can't tell you anymore than that. She said she'd be back."
"That's just great!" Miller said with disgust. "Marat and his zombies have Ross. About an hour ago, Marat gathered his troops at headquarters and he's holed up in there with Ross."
"Dammit." Stew shoved his goggles up and rubbed his face. "Has Marat said anything? What does he want?"
"We don't know." Miller spat on the dusty ground. "There were ten or twenty of those stinking things lounging around outside headquarters. We didn't think it was too smart to stroll in and chitchat."
Chennault pulled her Dragoon and checked the load. "I say we bust Ross out of there and whatever we see that's dead, gets killed again."
Stew felt a thrill at Chennault's words. He was sick of walking on eggshells around the Legionnaires. The normally quiet Stew longed for a test of force, and he sensed the same desire in the other Rangers. Even Miller, who was far from the bravest man on Banshee, had that
cold look in his eye that said he'd rather risk dying than keep living this way.
However, Stew couldn't let them press it. He promised Debbi that he'd do all he could to keep Ross out of harm's way and keep the peace in town until she came back. And he intended to do it; he trusted Debbi more than anyone he'd ever known.
"No," Stew said quietly.
Miller shouted, "What? Come on! How long are we going to keep on taking their crap? I say we kill them all tonight!"
Fitz added, "Miller's right. I can't believe I just said that. But we've got them surrounded. And outnumbered if you count the militia."
Stew looked Fitz in the eye. "They've got Ross. And nobody counts the militia."
"Ross is gone," Chennault said. "He's been gone for a month. Let's take them!"
"I promised Dallas."
"Dallas has a blind spot about Ross," Chennault countered.
Stew eyed the powerful ex-Marine.
Chennault's voice became oddly soft. "Dallas can't be trusted to make the right call here. I can see it in her eyes. She'll never give up on Ross, no matter what. Marat will always have that hold over her. But Marat also thinks that we won't pull the trigger, and that's our edge. But if we wait too long, he'll get into somebody's head and tumble to it. Stew, it's Temptation or Ross. It's not a good choice, but it's one we've got to make. And we've got to make it now."
Miller interjected, "I say what the hell would the old Ross do? You think he'd let those dead sons of bitches run his town? He'd blow Marat's head off and it's every man and zombie for himself."
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